


Tahitians, I Guess | Dutch Van der Linde/Reader

by arthurmorgan



Category: Red Dead Redemption 2
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 09:58:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17640596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arthurmorgan/pseuds/arthurmorgan
Summary: Dutch and the rest of the gang made it to Tahiti. And for you? You made it too, and Dutch was the loveliest man you knew.





	Tahitians, I Guess | Dutch Van der Linde/Reader

It was a Saturday, meaning you had off from work. Mango farming wasn’t your forte, but a native had been nice enough to hire you to help out at a small shop he owned. 

But, being off meant another thing: you would get to spend more time with Dutch. He was the loveliest man you had ever met, and you had to admit, he was a natural charmer. 

In fact, Dutch came up from behind your relaxed position in a chair to place his hands over your eyes. “Who am I?” he asked, teasingly.

“Dunno, some guy with a pretentious voice?” 

“Close enough.” 

His hands moved away, and damn it, that made the sun filtering through seem blinding. You squinted, and you could make out Dutch’s figure in front of you. At least he blocked the sunlight a bit. “You didn’t come over here and bother me for nothing, I’m hoping?” 

“You don’t like seeing me and my beautiful body?” 

Rising from your seat, you said, “I guess I do, actually. But I don’t know, I don’t really feel like fucking right now.”

“That’s not what I meant—”

“I’m just messin’ with you, you know that. You seem pretty sensitive for a guy who was in a gang, though.”

“You must’ve been even dumber than me if you joined my gang, then.”

“I don’t know about that. At least I don’t bother poor, innocent people,” you said dramatically, faking a pout and putting one hand in front of your forehead, “who are stuck living with a buffoon.” 

“I guess you’ve got me there. But, maybe I can make it up to you by spending some time on the beach with you?” 

Shit, he was smooth. In his own stupid way, he was, and you had no idea how he managed to do it. 

You took a moment to feign confusion, as if you were mulling it over. Finally, you gave in, “I suppose you can.”

Dutch took your hand in his as you two walked out of the house, and he gently swung them. After walking for a little while, he commented, “You’d be good in the pictures, you know.”

“How’s that?”

“What you did back at the house. What you do in most conversations. Shame we don’t live in Blackwater.” 

“Blackwater? Are you kidding me? We’d be arrested within minutes.”

“You may be right on that one.” 

For a while, you two kept walking along the shoreline, not saying anything. The silence was nice, though. It was peaceful to be able to just listen to the sound of the waves, to look at the footprints you and Dutch left in the wet sand, to smell the saltiness of the breeze. 

Tahiti surely wasn’t everything Dutch made it out to be, but it still had nice things. Everywhere had its nice things, but... Tahiti’s were different. There were things you could experience on the island that you couldn’t experience anywhere else. Sure, you could go to the magnificent theater in Saint Denis, but there were theaters all over America. In Tahiti, there was hardly anywhere else you could get sunburnt from being outside too long and not mind it at all. 

And, even with all the things Tahiti had to offer, Dutch still made it better. Even his simple presence could you get to smile, as there was a sort of comfort to being with him. You felt safe with him, like you were at home. With Dutch, anything could happen, and you’d still be reassured by the palm of his hand pressing against yours. 

Ah, shit, you were getting mushy again. You didn’t mind enjoying things, necessarily. But you didn’t enjoy sounding like an old man talking about bird watching, either. 

With your return to reality, you noticed that Dutch’s eyes were on you. Well, not literally. You’d seen enough gore in your lifetime, so you surely didn’t need that. But that was beyond the point— Dutch was pretty much staring at you. 

“Yeah?” you asked. You were kind of tempted to say something a little more sarcastic, like ‘What are you lookin’ at, creep?’ But you didn’t want to ruin the moment; not all the time, at least. 

“You were in one of your daydreams again, weren’t you? I could tell by the glazed look in your eyes, and how your breathing relaxed.

“I don’t mind it, though. I like to see you at peace like that. It’s nice to see you calm, especially after all we had to go through to get where we are today.”

“That’s... that’s sweet of you to say.”

“You make me the happiest man alive, and I want you to know that.”

“I could say the same thing to you, even though I don’t have as much of a way with words as you do.” 

Dutch stopped walking. His hand released from yours, and you gave him a confused look. Was he hurt, or something? It wasn’t like he needed to tie his shoe, neither of you were wearing shoes—

“Will you marry me, Y/N?” 

Your mouth dropped open in awe. He was really proposing to you. Wow. Dutch wasn’t even a man who really believed in marriage! “Yes. Yes!” 

You took one of Dutch’s hands to lift him back to a stand so that you could kiss him. You kissed him with everything you had, and your lips fit together with his more perfect than they ever had before, and one of your hands was in his curly hair, the other cupping his face, and you loved him more than anything in the world in those moments. 

You pulled away, and you could see it in Dutch’s eyes: he was right, he was the happiest man in the world. And you were positive he could see the same thing in yours.


End file.
